Bake Me a Cupcake
by Tricks AND Treats Contest
Summary: Business owner and cupcake chef, Bella Swan, is used to being judged by her dyed hair and piercings. Then a boy who seems to be her polar opposite finds his way beneath her defenses. Over melted toffee and pumpkin cupcakes, she finds herself falling hard. But what if


Standard Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **3 BMaC 3**

"Why do you have a ring through your nose?" the girl asked with a look of guileless curiosity.

"Mindy!" her mother gasped in shock.

"But, Mom, you said-"

"Hush. What kind of cupcake do you want?"

"It's okay, Mindy. When I was little, and I saw grownups with body piercings, I wondered the same thing. When I turned six, I had to beg my mom to let me get my ears pierced. I wear her birthstone in these," Bella explained pointing to her earlobes. "When I was all grown up, I decided I wanted more earrings for all the other people I love and other important things in my life. This one," she said, tapping the side of her nose, "is for my Grandma. She taught me how to cook. And when she passed away, she left me the money I used to buy this bakery. I had to put Nana's earring here, because when I was your age, I loved visiting her house. It always smelled sooooo good." Bella sniffed the air dramatically.

The girl giggled. "That's weird."

"Yeah. I know. I'm kind of a weird person. But you're not weird, are you, Mindy? I bet you don't want a weird cupcake. You want. . ." she made a show of searching through the display case. "You want a. . . raspberry cupcake with lemon frosting!"

"I do?" Mindy looked at the iced confection suspiciously. "Can you add sprinkles?"

"Mindy!" her mom scolded again, obviously uncomfortable with her daughter's forthright attitude.

"Of course I'll give you extra sprinkles. One for each of those adorable freckles."

Mindy giggled and stood on her tiptoes, watching as Bella transferred the cupcake from the display case to a clear plastic container. She doused it liberally with colored sprinkles and rang it up at the till.

The mom cried, "Wait! Isn't that one of your specialty flavors?"

"I charge a flat rate for kids when they come into the store. It makes it easier for their parents to say yes," Bella smiled.

"Wow. Thanks," the girl's mom said, handing over her debit card.

Bella's cupcakes ranged in price depending on the ingredients and the effort that went into preparation and presentation. The 'Raspberry Swirl-Lemon Chiffon' cupcake was her newest flavor and the featured Cupcake-of-the-Month for August. With only a week and a half left in August, she still hadn't decided what to feature for September. If she didn't have any inspiration, she could always fall back on her 'Chocolate-Peanut Butter-Cream' cupcake, a perennial favorite with the UW students who made up a majority of her clientele.

Bella had only told Mindy about a handful of her piercings. The girl's mother would not have been impressed to hear about the belly button ring she got for her 18th birthday, the nipple rings she got after she handed her V-card over to her second boyfriend, intended to symbolize the overlapping pain and pleasure of the experience, or the four eyebrow rings she got to remind herself to keep her eyes open when it came to men.

Each eyebrow piercing commemorated the end of one of her trainwreck relationships. Three boyfriends and one ill-fated engagement. Opening her own shop had been the start of her life of self-imposed celibacy, and the beginning of her commitment to being self-reliant, both financially and emotionally. It was the best decision she had ever made. Rather than feeling deprived, she felt liberated. The stud and ring which passed through her bottom lip was her most recent piercing. When she was ready to kiss another man, ready to be in a healthy relationship instead of the codependent emotional mindfucks of her past, then, and only then, would she take it out.

As the mom and daughter were leaving, three more groups came in, and Bella scrambled to fill their orders. Frantic moments like this made her reconsider only hiring summer help, but when she did the math, it didn't make sense to hire a regular employee. The shop made money, and she had a comfortable life, but there wasn't a lot of extra cash. Not yet, at least.

"I like you hair," a boy said, as she helped his mom select two dozen cupcakes.

"Thanks! Go Hawks!" she laughed. Her hair was dyed black with green and blue tips for the football season. She wasn't as crazy as some fans, but she sold tens of dozens of blue and green frosted cupcakes on game days, and, since she was usually working, she had the games playing on a wall-mounted screen. Supporting the Seahawks went hand-in-hand with running a business in Seattle.

"I'm going to dye my hair blue for 'crazy hair day' next Friday," the boy confided, shoving his hands in the pockets of his bright yellow hoodie.

"Ooh. That sounds like fun. What grade are you in?"

"Fifth. My sister's in kindergarten. She's turning six tomorrow," he said, pointing his elbow at the girl who was hovering shyly under her mom's arm.

"Six already? Wow!" Bella said with her eyebrows raised. "Are these cupcakes for you?"

"Yeah-huh," the girl said shyly, blushing.

"You know, birthday girls get an extra special cupcake. For free."

"They do?" That got her attention. She stepped closer to the glass with her eyes open wide.

"Pick one. Any one," Bella encouraged.

"What's that?" the girl asked, pointing at an unfrosted chocolate cupcake on the specialty shelf.

"Oooh. That's a grown up cupcake. That's my 'Volcano Cake.' I don't think you'll like it."

Another client stepped into the shop just then, the bell ringing cheerily. Bella glanced up and saw a cute college guy checking out the cupcakes on display. She took his measure in a single look. He had auburn hair, neatly combed and gelled, with thick-framed glasses, khaki slacks and a sweater vest over a light blue button down shirt. She bit her lip to hide a smirk. A sweater vest? She had already narrowed down his major, his favorite music and his favorite cupcake to a couple of options. That boy was vanilla, vanilla, vanilla. Definitely not a 'Volcano Cake.' Not by a long shot.

"Volcano? Really?" the girl's eyes were glowing. All shyness forgotten, she pressed her face up against the glass. "Does it explode?"

"No. No. Nothing like that. But it does have a molten core," Bella said with a sly smile. "I serve it hot with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. See, it's made with dark chocolate batter, chili pepper for a bit of a bite and liquid chocolate in the middle. Then, you see the red lava? That's homemade cherry jelly. When it gets hot, it bubbles up and melts down the sides. Crazy, huh?"

The girl nodded, entranced. "I want that one."

"Uuuhhh," Bella was nonplussed. She loved the contrasting sweet, spicy and tart flavors, but it was a mature, complex blend. Not something most six-year-olds would like or appreciate.

"She loves volcanos," the girl's mom explained, shaking her head.

The college guy was patiently watching the exchange, a small smile tugging on his lips.

"'Volcano Cake' it is!" Bella shrugged, and popped the cupcake into the convection oven to heat while she rang up the order. "Promise me you'll have the best birthday ever!"

"I will," the girl replied, taking her bowl to one of the tiny bistro tables near the window. Her mom and brother sat down with her, drinking coffee and hot apple cider.

"What can I get for you?" Bella greeted her next customer. Up close, she could see how beautiful his eyes were - a unique, light brown hue, almost the color of amber, framed by long, dark lashes.

"I have no idea. Uh. It's not for me. There's this girl. . ." The guy was holding his wallet, flipping it open and closed nervously.

Bella's eyes were drawn to his long, graceful fingers. A pianist's hands. No, he didn't have the aloof air of a musician. Taking in the whole picture, he was definitely studying medicine. Second generation, at least. Maybe a future surgeon?

"Courting with cupcakes. I like it," Bella smiled. "Tell me a little bit about her."

"Well, for one thing, Lauren is gorgeous. Classy. And smart. Really smart. She's in my Psych 301 class, and I bet she could teach it better than the professor." Bella amended her earlier assessment. He was probably majoring in Pre-Med, minoring in Psychology. "Okay. Anything else? Have you known her long?"

"No. I haven't actually ever spoken to her. I was hoping. . . see, there's a study session for our class in half an hour. I was hoping to take her something sweet and, you know, introduce myself. Ask her out."

"I'm guessing you don't know if she has any allergies."

"No."

"So, nuts are out. That rules out quite a few cupcakes. How about something with a white cake and fruit filling?"

"Um. Okay. What kinds do you have?"

"They're all on this shelf, and I have some blueberry ones in the back I was frosting this morning. They should be set by now."

"What about this one," the guy asked, pointing to a cupcake labeled 'Here Comes the Bride.'

"Don't you think that's coming on a little strong?" she laughed.

"Oh, crap. You're right," he said, blushing. "It just looks so fancy. Classy, like Lauren. Wait! 'Peaches and Cream?' That would be perfect. It kind of matches her complexion."

"Uuuhh. You're going to ask a girl out with 'Peaches and Cream?' Kind of daring, aren't you?" Bella teased.

He looked confused. "What do you mean?" He acted as if the innuendo had soared straight over his head.

"Um. Never mind. Great choice. This was a good year for peaches. Okay, just the one cupcake? Nothing for you?"

"Everything looks delicious, but I'm too nervous to eat. Maybe next time."

"You got it," Bella grinned. She tied a gold ribbon around the container and handed it across the counter. "Good luck!"

"Thanks, Cupcake Girl," he said as he ducked out of the shop.

Bella took advantage of the mid-morning lull to rearrange the display case and make room for the 'Blueberry Dream' cupcakes she had just finished. Then she made herself a cappuccino and settled into her break room, little more than a nook with a comfy chair and a tiny side table, trusting the bell on the door to alert her if another customer came in. She opened her notebook to her most recent recipe and scribbled down some adjustments based on the results of her last test run.

The rest of the day was a typical Friday, with activity carrying on pretty consistently throughout the afternoon and evening. Right before closing, a couple in their mid-twenties came in, hands clasped and smiles on their faces. They traded a kiss as she rang up the order, just a gentle brush of lips, but the romantic picture made Bella's heart clench in longing. Two years was a long time to be alone. She missed that closeness.

When they disappeared down the lamp-lit sidewalk, Bella flipped the sign to closed and locked the front door. She went through her normal closing checklist, moving all the desserts to the walk-in, cleaning the espresso machine, wiping down tables and chairs and sweeping the floor. She used a strong glass cleaner to remove the little fingerprints and nose smudges that had accumulated on the display case throughout the day.

With her tasks complete, Bella took the back stairs up to her apartment. Kicking off her boots, she switched on the TV, poured herself an inch of Maker's Mark and curled up on the couch.

Being alone was okay. She didn't need a man.

She didn't like to admit it, but the mantra was getting thin in places. Maybe she didn't need a man, but there were occasional nights when she didn't look forward to going to bed alone.

She sipped her bourbon pensively. But she didn't _need_ one anymore. Want was not the same as need. Did that mean she was ready to remove her lip ring? Maybe. Someday soon. If she met someone with whom she could share the most personal parts of herself.

Bella closed the shop every Monday except for the occasional special order. Not only was it the slowest sales day of the week, but she needed time to do inventory, clean, restock and take care of all the little tasks that piled up through the week.

Dressed in jeans and a hoodie with her hair pulled up into a tight ponytail, Bella unpacked massive bags of flour, icing sugar and decorations. A separate delivery brought perishables like eggs, milk, cream and the fresh fruits and vegetables she used in many of her recipes. She played music as she worked, rotating her stock and making notes of ingredients that were getting low for her next order.

Once she was all caught up, Bella lugged an armful of supplies up the stairs to her own kitchen where she conducted her experiments and trial runs. She had one week to come up with a new flavor for September, but she was drawing a blank. Three more trials turned up lackluster results. Feeling dejected and uninspired, Bella shoved her wallet into her back pocket, grabbed the deposit envelope and went out. She took care of her business at the bank, then walked the few blocks to the movie theater where she bought tickets for back-to-back showings of two new movies, a massive tub of popcorn and a super-sized Coke. She definitely didn't need a man in her life. He would only want to steal half her popcorn anyway.

 **3 BMaC 3**

The following Friday, Bella saw a familiar face waiting in line to order. When Vanilla, as she thought of him, stepped up to the display case, he was grinning.

"Did she like it?"

"She loved it. We went out last weekend, and now she's sitting next to me during lectures."

"Nice. Looking for an encore then, right?"

"Yeah. I was thinking something a bit bolder."

"This one has apple cider, cinnamon and nutmeg. It goes great with hot tea."

"Um. That sounds good. . . or maybe something with chocolate in it," he said, his eyes scanning the available options

"You've got lots to choose from. I _love_ chocolate. I guess you cook what you love."

"Wait, you make all of these?" He looked impressed.

"My shop, my recipes. Well, actually I got most of the basics from my Nana. But a lot of these are Bella Swan originals. I try to come up with one new recipe each month," she explained, pointing to the tiered dish of 'Raspberry Swirl-Lemon Chiffon' cupcakes.

"That's really neat. What are you doing for September?"

"I have no clue," she confessed with a laugh. "Most of the time, I have an ingredient that I use as a prompt and build the recipe around it. Like this one. One of my friends made me the best raspberry lemonade I've ever had earlier in the summer. I tried to capture that flavor in a dessert. But this coming month? I'm stumped. September is always the hardest."

"Well, if I think of something, I'll let you know," he said, then looked over his shoulder with surprise, realizing there was a line behind him. "I'll take that one, I guess," he said, pointing to the 'Tuxedo' cupcake, a chocolate/vanilla marbled cake with chocolate ganache and curls of white and dark chocolate on top.

"Coming right up," Bella replied, boxing it up for him. She was out of gold ribbon, so she chose a length of crimson silk to tie the box. He handed her a twenty and turned to go.

"Wait! Your change!"

"Keep it," he grinned. "Thanks, Cupcake Girl!"

Bella was grinning, too, as she helped her next customer. Vanilla was a hopeless romantic. Lauren was a lucky girl.

 **3 BMaC 3**

The weekend passed by in a blur of baking, frosting and tending the shop. Bella went through the motions on the following Monday morning, unpacking the supplies as they were delivered, then started in on her bookkeeping for the month. It was August 31st. She was pretty much resigned to baking 'Chocolate-Peanut Butter-Cream' cupcakes all month long. She had even ordered extra tubs of peanut butter.

She was filling out a deposit slip for her trip to the bank later when the doorbell rang. Bella paused. She didn't have any special orders scheduled today. Did she? If she did, she was royally fucked, because she had no memory of one.

Bella slipped shoes on her feet, hastily pulled her hair back into a ponytail and slid-ran down the stairs. She hurried through the dark kitchen and into the front of the shop. Her jaw dropped when she saw Vanilla standing under the canopy, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a small white paper bag.

Bella unlocked the door and swung it wide open, "I'm so sorry. I'm actually closed on Mondays, but I have a pretty good selection in the refrigerator if you-"

"Yeah, I saw the sign. I just wanted to give you this," he said, holding out the bag.

"What is it?" Bella asked, curious. She kept her foot against the door to prop it open and took the proffered package in both hands. Peeking inside she saw a brown and white confectionary box. She took it out and opened it. "Toffee?"

"You're still looking for a main ingredient, right? For your new recipe? Or did you already come up with something? I was going to come by earlier this morning, but I had classes, and it's been really crazy lately with school."

"Gosh, no. I haven't. This is awesome. Thanks!" The ideas were already popping up in her mind. Pecan cupcakes with vanilla frosting sprinkled with toffee, toffee apple cupcakes, chocolate layered with paper-thin toffee and cream. Her lips split into a wide smile of excitement. "Do you want to come in? I was finishing up some paperwork, but that can wait. Do you want some coffee?"

"Coffee would be wonderful," he replied, rubbing his hands. It was surprisingly cold, even for late summer in Seattle.

Vanilla - she really needed to ask him for his actual name - looked around curiously as she locked the door and led him through the enormous kitchen. "This is incredible. So, you own this place?"

"I have a five-year lease, but business is good, so I plan to stay here. Besides, I like living upstairs from where I work. It gives me a lot more flexibility."

"You live here?" he asked, a light blush staining his cheeks.

"Yep. The previous tenant ran a bakery, too, so I didn't have to invest much in the equipment," she said, leading him to the narrow staircase in the back. "And the apartment came furnished. It also has a professional-grade kitchen, which is a huge bonus. I can experiment all I like on a smaller scale, which saves me from making a mess downstairs and minimizes waste if it doesn't turn out."

She hadn't thought before she invited him in, but suddenly Bella was very conscious of the fact that a man was following her up to her apartment. She barely knew this guy. Her heart was racing by the time she opened the door to her living room.

"Come on in, sorry for the mess," she apologized, realizing that she had kicked off her boots and thrown her jacket on the couch carelessly last night. There was an empty tumbler stained gold with dried bourbon on the coffee table, along with several baking and cake decorating magazines. Her dining table was strewn with receipts, order forms, sticky notes and her ledger.

"Don't apologize. It's nice. I share a house with five other guys. The couch breeds crumbs and nobody ever takes out the garbage. It's revolting."

"Ah. Roommates. Can't do it. I'm a loner." There was no reason to get into her own roommate horror stories. She was over that nightmare. For the most part.

"Really? That surprises me. You're so friendly and open. Kids love you."

Bella snorted. "Hardly."

"Really. They all talk about you as they leave. I think people come here as much for you as for your baking. Although your cupcakes are incredible."

"Oh. I had no idea. Thanks," Bella blushed. She poured him a cup of coffee and pushed the creamer and sugar across the counter toward him. "I mean, I like kids. They're blunt and honest. Or at least they start out that way. And I like baking for people. I like being a part of their celebrations. The birthdays, showers, tailgate parties, whatever. It feels good."

"Everyone should love their job as much as you do. Keep coming up with awesome recipes, and I'll keep coming back. I plan to try everything at least once. Especially that lava cake I saw the first time I came in."

"I'll set one aside for you next time I make them," she promised.

"So, what are you baking today? Does this help?" he asked, indicating the box of toffees. "Those are my favorites. My aunt sends us a box every year for my dad's birthday. He can't eat them. Dental work, you know? But he hasn't told her that, because he knows how much I love them."

"Oh my gosh, I can't use them. They're a gift, and it sounds like a rare one, too!"

"Stop. It's fine. You can order them straight from the company online. They aren't even that expensive. You helped me. I wanted to return the favor."

"Thanks. That's really sweet. Do you want to help me come up with a new flavor? You don't have any classes or a date or anything?"

"Nope. I'm free all afternoon. Show me what you want measured or stirred."

"Okay," she agreed, smiling. His enthusiasm was infectious.

Bella preheated the oven, then pulled bowls, pans and basic ingredients out, piling them on the counter. She grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and did some quick arithmetic. She wanted to try a toffee apple recipe, starting with her 'Apple Spice' cupcake, but taking out the spices, adding in fresh-grated apple, and pouring a layer of toffee over the top.

She re-tied her hair, washed her hands and tossed an apron at Vanilla. "Don't want to get flour on your sweater," she teased.

"Actually, it's way warmer in here than outside." He lifted off his vest, rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands before tying the apron around his waist. "How do I look?"

"Very cute. Like you're making your debut as a TV chef," Bella laughed. "Come on over here. Measure out the dry ingredients into this bowl, then mix them well with this wisk."

Vanilla read over her notes and selected a measuring cup, taking a big scoop out of the flour jar.

"Wait! No. Here. Like this," she said, taking the scoop and showing him out to level it off. "There's a lot of chemistry in baking. You have to having the right proportions."

"Oh, right. I knew that," he said, embarrassed.

"It's okay." Bella stepped back and watched him carefully smooth out the top of the measuring spoon with the back of a knife before adding the salt to the flour. Biting her lip to stop herself from laughing, she blended sugar in with the eggs, whipping it into a smooth, creamy consistency with her spatula. She looked up when Vanilla grabbed the sugar jar. "Not the sugar! I already did that."

"But you said all the dry-"

"Sorry. I know I said that. Um. . . see, sugar melts when it gets hot, so we treat it like a liquid. We blend it into the butter and eggs to make sure it's more evenly distributed before it hits the oven. You get a smoother texture. A finer crumb."

"Okay. . ." he said, looking overwhelmed.

"Don't worry. You're doing great. Do you want to grate up some apple?"

"Sure. I can do that."

Bella passed him a small knife, chopping board, a grater and a bowl. "Got ahead and quarter, core and peel one apple. These Jonagolds are good. Nice and tart. Grate it into that bowl. We'll use about two thirds of a cup, so just grate it all. But watch your fingers."

The oven beeped to indicate it was pre-heated. Bella popped liners into the fifteen-muffin tin and deftly combined everything. Vanilla stood back and watched as she rapidly poured batter into each liner, using the rubber spatula to manage the flow as she moved between each cup. She only spilled one drop and had to swallow a triumphant smile. She might have been showing off. Just a little.

"Okay, that was amazing," he said, visibly impressed.

"Do anything every day of your life and you're bound to get good at it," she shrugged, dismissing his praise. Inside, her stomach was doing flips, and her heart was glowing. "Okay, how do you feel about melting some of this toffee to pour over the tops when they're done?"

"In the microwave?"

"Eww. No. I have a heavy saucepan for making candy, because it gets way hotter than boiling water. You don't want to splatter. Candy burns are nasty," she said, showing him the scars on her hand and forearm. "I washed a spoon and didn't dry it properly before stirring treacle raindrops I was making with my Nana when I was a girl. They're these delicious little sugar candies that she would dust with powdered sugar and keep in a bowl on her counter. It hurt so much, I was freaking out. Nana was so calm, though. She held my arm under the faucet and gave me a basin of ice water to dip my arm in any time the sting got too bad. She had to finish cooking without me, because I couldn't stop crying. I don't think anything hurts worse than burns."

"You're probably right. That's one of the reasons I want to specialize in pain management for burn victims after medical school. In the last decade, there's been a huge demand for advanced treatment for burn victims, especially with the military, but we're still dosing people with heavy narcotics, building up dependence and resistance without offering any sort of quality of life. There's an enormous demand, but not a lot of new solutions."

"That's incredible. Although, I have to admit, I thought you were planning to be a surgeon when I first saw you."

"What? How?"

"You have such beautiful, graceful fingers," she confessed. "I imagine you're very good with your hands." Too late, she realized it sounded like she was flirting.

Vanilla was blushing again, fidgeting with the strings of the apron. That just drew her attention back to his hands, then she was blushing, too.

"Actually, my dad's a surgeon. He teaches at UW. That's how I ended up here."

"Aha," Bella said, giving herself a mental high five. She didn't always get a chance to verify her guesses, but she had been right more than fifty percent of the time for those she did confirm. Forcing herself to get back to baking, she said, "I don't want to waste the toffees, so I'm only melting enough to cover two cupcakes for now. I can frost the rest and give them away, or put them out on the discount platter tomorrow if they're okay to sell."

"You don't think they'll be good?"

"I hope they are. We'll see. Let's try one with chocolate. Speaking of which, how did your girlfriend like the 'Tuxedo' cupcake?"

"You mean Lauren? Uh, she thought it was good."

"Cool," Bella said, wondering why the room suddenly felt cold. Was it wrong for her to remind him, and herself, that he was taken?

"Yeah," he mumbled, staring at the digital display on the oven.

"Well, let's try this recipe, too. Toffee and walnuts go great together."

They started the process over again, using walnut flour, walnut pieces and chunks of dark chocolate in the batter. Bella showed Vanilla how to make frosting, smiling to herself as she watched him measure out two teaspoons of vanilla extract. She almost didn't want to know his real name, the name he went by with everyone else. In her head, he already had a name that fit him perfectly.

When the apples cupcakes were done, she poured a thin layer of smooth, translucent toffee over two of them, then set the tray on a cooling rack. The walnut cupcakes went into the oven, and she scribbled out directions for Vanilla to measure out ingredients for a chocolate muffin batter. He asked if he could crack the eggs, and they spent several minutes fishing fragments out of the bottom of the bowl, laughing at his clumsy attempt. He mixed the ingredients himself, quickly responding to her suggestions about how to hold the spatula and bowl. Bella felt her face grow hot as she watched him, seeing the look of intense concentration in his amber eyes. He trapped his tongue between his teeth as he worked, his hands and forearms flexing with every beat of the utensil.

"That's enough," Bella said, stepping in suddenly. She could feel her pulse, pounding deep in her stomach.

Vanilla stepped back against the other counter, relinquishing control without a word. Bella poured the batter into the muffin tin and turned out the apple cupcakes. They were still warm, but the toffee crackled, shiny and hard on the top.

"Do you want some milk?" she offered as she poured herself a glass.

"Sure. Thanks."

They stood at the counter and tested the desserts. "Too sweet," Bella said at the same time that he said, "Not enough apple." They both laughed.

"It's already pretty moist. I can't really add more apple. I didn't realize that the flavor would disappear so much without the cinnamon and nutmeg."

"I don't think it's too sweet, but I see what you mean. It would be really heavy. These don't look like they got as puffy as your other cupcakes."

"They didn't. Good eye. We'll make a cupcake chef out of you, yet!"

"But I really like the toffee crunch. I think it will go well with the walnuts."

They both agreed that the frosted walnut toffee cupcake was a contender, but when Vanilla saw what Bella had planned for the third recipe, his eyes went wide. Bella removed the paper liner and cut the cake horizontally into thirds. She reconstructed the cupcake inside a brown paper wrapper, pouring melted toffee over the first cake layer, followed by a drizzle of melted chocolate. The second layer was toffee and vanilla cream frosting, and the confection was topped with chocolate ganache, chocolate shavings and a sprinkle of crushed toffee.

"This is it," he said, before he had even taken a bite.

"It's a lot of work, but it's so worth it," she said with a satisfied smiled, peeling back the paper once it had cooled to show him the layers.

"That's so gorgeous, I can't decide if I want to eat it or put it on display," he laughed, unwrapping his own. "Three cupcakes in one afternoon. I'm going to crash hard after this."

"I don't actually eat the whole thing. It's taste testing, not a buffet," Bella said, pointing to the barely touched cupcakes on her plate.

"Yeah right. As if I could take just one bite. Which one are you going to pick?"

"I'm on the fence between the walnut and the layered one. How about you?"

"This one. Definitely this one," he said, finishing the layered cupcake with his eyes closed and a blissful, chocolate-smeared smile on his lips.

Bella laughed, ran water over the corner of a dish towel and dabbed the corner of his mouth. "Aw, Vanilla. You got into the chocolate."

"Vanilla?"

"Ummm," Bella stepped back, embarrassed.

"Uh uh. You don't get to do that. Did you just call me vanilla?"

"Well, I don't know your real name."

"So you chose vanilla. . ."

"I'm sorry. It was the sweater vest."

He burst out laughing. "Vanilla," he chuckled under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing. I like it, Cupcake Girl." His eyes darted to the clock on the stove. "Crap. It's getting late. I better go. See you Friday?"

"Sure. That sounds great." She followed him downstairs and let him out. From the dark window of her shop, she watched him walk away, his sweater over one arm and flour in his hair. He never had told her his name.

 **3 BMaC 3**

When Vanilla came into the shop on Friday morning, there was already a big crowd. Bella had taken a picture of the new cupcake and gotten it blown up as a poster to hang in the window. 'Chocolate-Toffee-Crunch.' It was already a hit. She'd used the entire pack of toffees in the first two days and had to look up one of her grandmother's old recipes to make her own. The cupcakes were definitely more labor intensive than most, which was reflected in the price, but it hadn't seemed to hurt the sales at all.

When he reached the front of the line, Bella pulled a large white bakery box out from behind the counter. "For your study group," she said. "If you need more than 12, I can fill another box."

"Actually, there are only ten of us. That means three for me. Perfect," he grinned, reaching for his wallet.

"Uh uh. Nope. This one's on me. Thanks for the inspiration."

He paused, his eyebrows drawn together slightly, before he nodded in agreement. "If you insist. We're even for now. See ya, Cupcake Girl."

"Bye, Vanilla," she giggled, then turned to help the next person in line.

 **3 BMaC 3**

The following Monday, Bella was piping icing onto parchment paper, making fresh candy carrots to decorate her 'Carrot Cake' cupcakes, when the doorbell rang. Her heart jumped, and blood rushed to her face. She knew who it was before she even turned the corner.

"Looking for a sugar fix?"

"Am I that transparent?"

"Well, you are knocking on the door of a cupcake shop when it's closed. That sounds like desperation to me," she challenged him.

"I'm addicted. What can I say?" he replied, smirking.

"Well get in here, then. You can help me make decorations."

"Hanging streamers and balloons? I'm good at that."

Bella looked up and down his six-foot frame. "Thanks, but no. Although I could use your help for Halloween decorations next month. Right now I'm making little candy decorations for the cupcakes."

"If I make a mistake, do I get to eat it?"

"Ha ha. Sure. Why not?" Bella showed him around the commercial kitchen, gave him an apron and a hair net, then proceeded to teach him how to pipe tiny carrots.

"Okay, that's one ugly carrot. I guess I'm going to have to eat it," he said, reaching for the blob of orange icing.

Bella smacked his hand. "Stop. You're breaking at least three DOH rules right now. I don't want to lose my food service license over a misshapen carrot. When we're finished, we'll sort them. You can have all the rejects."

"Reject? Aww. Don't call him that. He's got feelings."

"Shut up, Vanilla. I've got another tray of these to do, plus I'm low on roses, daisies and smiley faces."

Standing shoulder-to-shoulder, they joked around as they finished the candy carrots, Bella following behind him with green icing for the leaves. They filled five racks with trays of decorations before he checked his watch and took off his apron.

"Can I have my crazy carrot now?"

"It's not dry yet. I'll give it to you on Friday," Bella said, committing him to stopping by without thinking. He didn't object.

"See you then, Cupcake Girl."

"Have a good night, Vanilla," she laughed, waving goodbye as he headed off down the sidewalk.

 **3 BMaC 3**

That Friday, Bella had a bag full of candy treats waiting for her favorite customer. He deliberated over his options for several minutes, allowing two other customers to go ahead of him. When there was a temporary break in traffic, Bella came around the counter to look at things from his perspective.

"What message are you trying to send now?"

"Huh?"

"To your girlfriend," Bella supplied. "Duh."

"Oh. Right. Actually, I'm not sure." He was looking at the floor, shuffling his shoes on the tiles.

"The 'Red Velvet' is pretty popular."

"Sure. That would work."

"Okaaay," Bella said, surprised by his noncommittal attitude. "Is there another one you like better?"

"No. That's great. Thanks." He handed her a twenty, but refused his change again, leaving the shop with a distracted smile and a wave.

"Bye, Vanilla," Bella said under her breath, confused by his distant demeanor.

 **3 BMaC 3**

The next day, Bella made a call. "Angela, it's Bella Swan. Last time we talked you said you might be available to pick up a couple shifts throughout the fall and winter. Is that still okay?"

"Absolutely," Angela chirped. Bella could hear her smiling through the phone.

"How about tomorrow? I want to hit the Ballard Farmer's Market, it opens at ten o'clock. Are you free from nine to noon?"

"Sure! There's no game tomorrow, right?" Bella could hear chatter in the background and the whir of an espresso machine. Angela was a coffee junky. She was probably feeding her addiction at her second home, the Starbucks on the Ave.

"Nope. It should be pretty slow. There are a couple scheduled pick ups, but I'll have everything boxed and tagged in the walk-in."

"Great! I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks, Bella!"

Bella hung up, shaking her head. Angela always used more than her fair share of exclamation points.

When Angela arrived on Sunday morning Bella gathered her ID, cash and three large canvas bags and boarded the bus heading west to Ballard. She always used pumpkin in her October special, and she wanted to get a head start on coming up with a new recipe. Vendors were still setting up unloading crates from their trucks when Bella reached the open-air market. She dodged dollies and carts, admiring the speed with which the sellers erected tents and tables, hanging out signs and piling fresh produce and other wares on their tables. More and more, the market was attracting jewelry makers, knitters and other small businesses.

Bella took mental note of a local dairy that was selling handmade cheeses, a farmer that she knew from previous visits who always gave her a discount, and a girl that was hanging up knitted beanies in dark, earthy tones. She had her heart set on the maroon and brown one. She found what she was looking for right when the market opened; a Puyallup-based farm stand selling sugar pumpkins. Bella backtracked to the cheese, tried a few samples, then purchased a couple tubs, stowing them in one of her bags. She took her time looking over the produce, buying fresh groceries for herself.

The knitting girl sported twin snake tattoos that climbed up from her slender wrists to her elbows. The designs danced sinuously as she worked. Bella hung out with her for almost half an hour, chatting about their businesses, favorite tattoo and piercing parlors and some of the other vendors before she bought the hat and wandered back down to the pumpkin stand. In addition to sugar pumpkins, the man had a fantastic variety of decorative gourds and one massive, behemoth of a pumpkin.

"Do you actually think you're going to sell that thing?" she asked in disbelief.

"It's already sold. They're bringing a truck round to collect it when the market closes," the man said, laughing along with her. "It's a pain in the ass to cart them around, but they get people's attention. If I don't manage to sell it, I just load it back into the truck for the Crossroads market on Tuesday. But I almost always find somebody who's willing to pay for a laugh. Why, you interested in buying one?"

"Uh, no. Definitely not. But I do want about a dozen of your sugar pumpkins. Give me three for two?"

"Ouch. Buy three, get one. I can give you that."

Bella pursed her lips. Twenty seven versus twenty four dollars. She shrugged. "Deal."

Bella counted out the cash and carefully chose twelve bright orange pumpkins, tapping each one to check for firmness and moisture. If they were too dry, the flesh wouldn't be very flavorful. Too moist and it would puree down to a mushy soup that would ruin the cupcake batter. The vendor watched her with an approving smile on his face as she filled her bags and turned to go.

She let out a yelp, almost dropping everything when she ran into a familiar sweater-clad chest. "Vanilla? What are you doing here?"

"Gosh. I'm so sorry. Um, hey. I'm here with Lauren and her roommate. Just looking around. Whoa. What is all this? Do you have a bunch of severed heads in there?"

"You caught me. I'm making blood and brain cupcakes next month. People love 'em."

"That's so wrong. But seriously, what's with all the pumpkins? Halloween is still like seven weeks away."

"They're sugar pumpkins. For baking. I'm actually heading back to the shop now. Angela is watching it for me. She's my part-timer from the summer and is helping me out here and there."

"Cool. Where's your car? I'll help you carry them back."

"Oh, I rode the bus. My stop is right over there," Bella nodded across the bustling farmer's market in the direction of Market Street.

"You're kidding. Here, let me drive you."

"That's so sweet, but really, I've got this. Besides, I thought your girlfriend and her roommate are here with you."

"The girls are fine. They're trying on jewelry. They'll probably be there for another hour at least. I insist. Come on, Cupcake Girl," he grinned, taking one of the bulging bags.

"Well, if you're sure it's okay," she caved, simultaneously worried and relieved. The bags were heavier than she expected, and she was actually excited to see what kind of car he drove.

When he unlocked the silver hatchback that was parallel parked half a block away, Bella had to bite her tongue. The picture was now complete. "This must have excellent safety ratings," she said in an innocent tone.

"Just say it."

"Say what?"

"You think it's a pansy-ass, effeminate joke."

"I would never!" she laughed.

"I can't read your mind, but your face broadcasts on every frequency. It's okay. I bought it off a friend who was having trouble making her tuition payment. I know how it looks."

"Okay. You're right. It makes your sweater vest look like Spartan armor. But, hey. At least it's silver, not bright yellow. Or pink."

"Phew. Wow. You're going to kill whatever self-esteem I have left. Where are my balls? I seem to have misplaced them."

Bella burst out laughing, holding her arms across her stomach because it hurt to laugh so hard. "Oh my God, Vanilla. I am so sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I'm good," he grinned, easing smoothly into traffic. "I love hearing you laugh. It's more than worth it."

"Awww, there you go being all sweet again," Bella said, feeling her cheeks burning. She looked out the window. Strangely, she wished her shop was hours, not minutes, away.

As they neared the shop, she heard Vanilla's phone start ringing, but he silenced it immediately. "Okay. Here we are. Let me help you get all this inside."

"That's not necessary. I can manage."

"It'll only take a second," he reassured her, sliding up to the curb and hopping out to retrieve her bags from the trunk.

Bella couldn't meet Angela's curious gaze when they entered the shop. She deposited the bags behind the counter and thanked him. His phone started ringing again, but he sent it to voicemail.

"See you tomorrow?" he asked, hopefully.

"Um. Sure. I'll be here."

"Great!" he said, waving as he left the shop and hopped back into his car.

"Oh. My. God! Who was that!? Bella, he is HOT. Oh, wow," Angela squealed, fanning herself frantically. "Please tell me you're getting some of that. Those jeans! That ass! How is that even legal!"

"Angela. Stop. He's just a friend."

"Nuh-uh. No way! Well, if you're going to pass, I'll take him. Do you have his number? What's his name?"

"He has a girlfriend. And he's not that hot," Bella lied, bending over under the pretext of grabbing her bags to hide her blush. Actually he was. And then some. Unfortunately, she didn't have his number. She didn't even know his name. This was so fucked up.

"You need glasses more than me, that's all I'm sayin'," Angela snorted, then giggled. "And his hands. . . I can just imagine. . . Mmmmm."

"Angela!" Bella cried more sharply than she intended.

"Sorry. Ummm, Miller hasn't come by yet, but the other two picked up. You were right. It's been pretty slow."

"That's okay. I was actually thinking it might be nice to have a couple hours on Sunday mornings. It was nice to take a break today. Would you be interested in making this a regular thing?"

"Just Sundays?"

"That's right."

"Uhhh. Yeah. That would be really helpful. My mom doesn't think I need spending money. Any hours you can give me would be super awesome!"

"Thanks, Angela. If you are available next Sunday for the same hours, I would love your help."

"Thanks, Bella! You're the best!" the smaller girl squealed, hugging Bella harder than she expected considering Angela's petite frame.

"Great. Thanks. You're a lifesaver." Bella scribbled out a check to cover Angela's hours, re-tied her hair and washed her hands. She had two dozen chocolate cupcakes to frost for an early morning pick-up.

As Bella worked, she realized her tongue was fidgeting with her lip ring. No way. Nope. She was happier without a man in her life. She was completely content, she told herself defiantly. But the trembling, slightly nauseated feeling in the pit of her stomach told a different story. She wasn't content. And the man she wanted wasn't even available.

 **3 BMaC 3**

When the doorbell rang late Monday morning, Bella hesitated before answering. She was up to her elbows in pumpkin guts, having prepared a third of the pumpkins for roasting. She felt short of breath as she washed up and dried her hands. Still carrying the towel, Bella went to the front of the shop and looked out. Vanilla was standing under the awning, shuffling his feet with his hands in the pockets of his slacks and a nervous look on his face.

"Hey, Vanilla," she greeted him with forced cheerfulness. She was so excited to see him. Too excited. She needed to keep herself in check.

"Hi. It's not too early to stop by, is it?"

"No. Of course not. Come on in," she said, standing aside.

He wrinkled his nose and smirked. "You smell like a pumpkin."

"Yeah, well, you will too in a minute. Suit up," she said, tossing an apron at him.

Bella showed him how to test the pumpkins for doneness, scoop out the bright orange flesh, blend it and package it for freezing. She set aside a few cups to use in her test runs that afternoon.

"Do you have anywhere else to be, or did you want to be my assistant and taste-tester again?"

"Put me to work. I'm all yours," he said with a mischievous grin.

"Let me shut all this down, and we can head upstairs. Here, take this," she said, handing him her notebook full of recipes.

Her feet felt like they weighed a ton as she climbed the steps to her apartment. It was a combination of anticipation and dread. Being alone with him, working close to him, it was pleasure wrapped in agony, spiked with pheromones.

Vanilla followed right behind her, his arms loaded with fresh ingredients. She was hyper-conscious of every rustle, every breath, every step he took. Bella cleared a place on the dining table for him to set them down, then busied herself in the kitchen, wiping down the counters and setting out all the utensils, bowls and pans they would need.

As they started the first recipe, they barely spoke. The air felt too warm, close, like it was lacking oxygen. Once the first batch of cupcakes was in the oven, Bella kicked her shoes off by the couch and took off her hoodie. It didn't help. Her skin was burning up.

Vanilla followed suit, taking off his sweater. He paused, then unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it over the back of the couch. She could see the muscles of his arms and chest, lean and strong beneath his white undershirt. Bella looked away.

"What's next?" he asked.

"I. . . Here. This one was my second choice from last year. I've tweaked it a bit, but I haven't tested it yet."

Vanilla stepped up behind her, reading the recipe over her shoulder. Bella swallowed hard. She could feel the heat of his body. Or maybe it was her own body heat, radiating out and bouncing back at her. She reached for a measuring spoon, but misjudged, sending it skittering across the counter. His hand darted out, grabbing it before it flew off the edge. His chest was pressing up against her back. They froze in that pose, neither one moving.

Bella felt him inhale and hold it.

Silence.

Her hands were shaking. She pressed them flat against the cool surface of the countertop. He stepped closer, and she knew it wasn't just her. He was burning, too. She felt him, hard and urgent, pushing up against her butt. He set the measuring cup down with a clatter and covered her trembling hand with his own. Long, strong fingers overlapped hers, curling between them, squeezing them into an interlocking fist.

He breathed out and in again, his nose in her hair, nudging against her ear. Bella moaned, soft but needy. His hips shifted, pressing his cock against her. She pushed back, letting out a shaky breath as it slid up over the curve of her ass, digging into her lower back.

"I want you," he whispered, using his other hand to pull the tie from her hair.

"Oh, God," she cried softly, her hair falling in a multi-hued cascade around her shoulders. All thoughts of resisting evaporated. Her consciousness narrowed to the sphere of superheated air that crackled around them. She twisted around to face him.

His lips came down on hers hard, a sudden release of tension and control. Long, lean arms lifted her up onto the counter. He hooked his hands behind her knees, roughly dragging her right to the edge. Bella wrapped her legs around his hips, locking her ankles around each other and pulling herself hard against him. His tongue slid between her lips, his mouth molding against hers, and her lip ring only intensified the feeling, tugging and pulling with every movement. His hands ran up over her hips, then under her shirt, burning like hot brands against her skin.

"I want you so bad," he groaned again, moving his mouth down to her throat, even as he lifted her shirt up higher.

Bella pulled away long enough to tear it off, helping him do the same. He fumbled with her bra for a second, before that hit the floor, too.

"Fuck me," he moaned, the curse word falling from his lips sent shivers up her spine.

Vanilla licked his lips hungrily as he stared at her breasts. He ran his thumbs hesitantly over her nipples, stroking the metal rings back and forth in a repetitive arc. Bella's breath caught in her throat, and she arched her back, encouraging him to be more aggressive. He bent over to take her left nipple into his mouth, wiggling the ring up and down with the tip of his tongue.

"Ungh. . . More. . . Please. . ." she begged, tangling her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, shamelessly rocking her hips against him.

The oven beeped behind him, and he cursed. Moving faster than her dazed vision could track, he grabbed a glove, opened the oven and tossed the tray on top of the stove. The oven door slammed shut, and he turned back to Bella immediately. Vanilla tossed his glasses onto the counter, and pulled frantically at her belt.

It took about five seconds for them to strip off the rest of their clothes. Bella's eyes widened in surprise. There was a dark scrawl of ink leading down from his belly button, and she was positive she caught a glimpse of silver before he was sliding into her, moaning and gasping in unintelligible bursts. Holy shit! He had an Apadravya? Everything she had assumed about her sweet Vanilla was flipped inside out and upside down by _that_ revelation.

His forehead was pressed against hers as he surged into her, holding her balanced right on the edge of the counter. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his features twisted into a rictus of such indescribable pleasure that Bella couldn't look away. The ball and post piercing was sending frighteningly powerful pulses through her core. She had one hand in his hair, and the other over his heart, his thundering, pounding heart. Just then, it didn't matter what she thought she knew, only that he spoke to her, moved with her, touched her in a way that no man ever had before. Labels, stereotypes, body image. . . none of it mattered.

There was a lump in her throat that grew and grew. He was beautiful as he loved her. As he made her his. Smooth, fair skin, rigid jaw, rippling, flexing, straining muscles. Even when the knot of fire in her stomach burst into a conflagration, she couldn't look away. There was nothing tame about him now. Nothing really vanilla after all. He was stripped of his polished mannerisms, his controlled refinement, leaving a raw, animalistic man. A passionate, demanding demigod. She would have given him anything he asked.

Her orgasm hit its peak, and a keening cry tore from her throat. His eyes burst open, flashing amber and black, hot and hungry. He slammed into her harder, grunting through his own orgasm, his eyes blazing with the fierce joy of possession.

He froze as he pulsed inside her. "I've wanted you since the second I heard your voice," he confessed. "Now, I'm never going to stop," he added, his voice low and hoarse.

"I. . ." Bella swallowed hard, her heart still trembling. He had wanted her since. . . That's when reality finally caught up with her. What they were doing. What they had done. "Oh God. . ." she cried, horrified.

She looked around and saw chaos. Clothes and cupcakes and memories of helping him choose treats for his _girlfriend_. Bile surged up from her stomach and she covered her mouth, choking it back down. He was still inside her, large and firm. _Still inside her._

She was gasping for air. Panicking. "You need to go. Now," she yelled, pulling back and pushing away.

"Wait, what's wrong? I'm sorry. I thought. . ."

She couldn't let him finish. Of course he thought she wanted him. It was probably painted on her face from day one. How could she not? Sweet, romantic, gorgeous, perfect as he was. Or maybe not so perfect. It had turned out to all be an elaborate camouflage.

"I know I never should have-"

"No shit. You shouldn't have even been here! What's wrong with you? You have a fucking girlfriend! Get out! Get the fuck out of here!"

"But I'm not-"

Bella twisted away from him, sliding and stumbling down from the counter. His semen was already dripping down her thighs. "I said get out. Get out!" she screamed, throwing his clothes and shoes at him. Now Vanilla could see her other side, too, she thought viciously.

His eyes were wide, and the color drained from his face. He swallowed once. Twice. Then he slowly pulled his clothes back on, his movements jerky and robotic. Bella stood in the middle of her kitchen, her own clothes hugged tight against her chest like a shield.

"Look, Cupcake. . . Bella. . . I. . ."

"Don't you dare call me that. You don't get to call me that. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Now! I can't believe we. . . You. . ." She was dizzy, unable to breathe past the agonizing pain. "Go. You need to go," she choked out, tears streaming down her face. "I never want to see you in my shop again."

The pain in her chest sent her flashing back to the day when her world had imploded two and a half years earlier. The day when she came home early from work because the computer system had crashed only to find her fiance, _her fiance!_ , bare-assed and sweaty, fucking her roommate and best friend over the side of the couch.

She'd lost it. Completely lost her mind. Throwing shit, screaming, ready to tear them both to pieces. Jerry Springer's guests had nothing on Bella Swan in a rage. She'd chased them both back into Jane's room then called her lifeline, an old childhood friend who lived nearby. Jake had arrived with one of his buddies fifteen minutes later, and the two of them had helped her pack up and move out that same afternoon.

It had taken her a whole month to stop crying. Two more for the murderous rages to pass. Three months after that she was piecing her life together with new friends, a new home and a business that demanded her love, patience and hard work, but gave her so much more in return.

Bella watched Vanilla's face as his emotions transformed from denial to resignation. Lips white. Hair a tangled, tousled mess. Clothes rumpled and shoes untied. He was a wreck, standing there in her apartment. It was in his eyes, wide and staring. A broken, hopeless wreck.

Didn't he realize what he had done? What he had made her do? Were all men assholes or did she only fall in love with losers? How could she be so fucking blind?

It took several minutes for him to start moving again, then he wordlessly stumbled backwards to the stairs. Bella closed her eyes and listened as his footsteps rang out in heavy, despondent thumps all the way down to the kitchen. Several seconds later, the little silver bell on the door rang cheerily, and the door swung shut behind him.

Bella slumped to the floor, shattered. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She hadn't meant to. . . She hadn't tried to. . . Oh, God. . .

She had never intended to be that woman. The other woman. Not after what Paul had done to her. How could her Vanilla be the same as all the others? How could she have fallen into that trap again?

Eventually, she dragged herself to the shower. As she washed him off of her skin, she cursed herself for her stupidity. It wasn't like her to get carried away. Not anymore. The old Bella, maybe, but not the self-sufficient adult she had worked so hard to become. And now, to know that she had fucked over Lauren, a girl she'd never even met. . . She hated herself.

Feeling wrung out like a threadbare rag, Bella cleaned up the mess in her apartment, then went downstairs to lock the front door. She hoped he obeyed her command to never set foot in her shop again. She didn't know how she could look into his eyes without disintegrating completely. Her heart felt like it had been torn to ribbons. This was exactly why she had made that promise to herself. In the end, it had been pointless.

 **3 BMaC 3**

That Friday, she looked up in dread every time the bell jingled. He never came. She was relieved. Sort of. She never should have let him into her shop, or her heart.

Every morning and evening, Bella attacked her chores with a vengeance. She spent Monday afternoon in her kitchen, throwing her energy into baking and experimenting, cutting back on the salt to account for the tears that dripped constantly into the mixing bowl. Remembering him standing beside her, touching her, kissing her lips, driving into her, it set her nerves alight with longing. Every time that happened, the feeling was quickly chased away by self-disgust.

Another week passed. Bella pulled out her step ladder to decorate her shop for October, hanging black and orange streamers and piling pumpkins in the window. She wasn't exactly thrilled with her special flavor of the month, but it was good enough. It sold well, most likely because of the theme, not by its own merit. If Vanilla hadn't touched her, if they had just carried on like before, she would have taken a lot more pride and joy in the sales. As it was, she felt obligated to smile when people ordered the 'Pumpkin Cream Cheese Surprise.' Her heart wasn't in it any more.

One Friday in mid-October, a couple of college girls came into the shop. Bella grabbed a notepad to write down their coffee orders, wondering if she had a backup carton of skim milk in the fridge or not.

"Hi, I was wondering if I could speak to your manager," the tall girl with perfectly highlighted hair inquired. She was Barbie in the flesh. Long, slender legs, tiny waist, pert breasts and the most symmetrical face Bella had ever seen.

"How can I help you? Did you have a problem with an order?" Bella asked, racking her brain but not remembering either girl.

"Actually, it's kind of a personal question. I have to talk to her about one of your coworkers," the girl said in a conspiratorial whisper.

Bella cocked her head, puzzled. "What kind of a problem?" She knew she had been out of sorts for a couple weeks, but she had never been rude to a customer. Not once.

"We may have a mutual acquaintance. I think she works on Thursday evenings or Friday mornings."

"Okaaaay. That would be me. I have a friend who fills in on the weekend once in a while, but other than that it's just me."

The girls both looked at her in confusion, then disbelief. The second one, a cute girl with bright red lipstick and curly, golden-brown hair, burst out laughing. "I don't believe it. Like, seriously. I don't believe it for one second. You're Edward's cupcake girl?"

"Excuse me? I don't know anyone named Edward," Bella protested. But even as she spoke, she knew exactly who they were talking about. Her Vanilla even had a vanilla name. She couldn't help the way that thought made her smile. Her reaction seemed to flip a switch in coed Barbie's brain. The polished shell cracked, revealing the harpy beneath.

"Shut up, Jessica," the girl she assumed to be Lauren said, her blue eyes flashing angrily. She turned back to Bella, her features turning hard and bitter. "People like Edward don't slum it, certainly not with trash like you. I don't know what you did to him, but when I find out, I'm going to ruin you."

"I'm really sorry. Is this Edward your boyfriend?" Her guilt forced her to maintain her manners, but she instinctively disliked the pair and didn't want to act subservient to either one.

"Maybe not, but he should be. Things were great until you interfered. When he wandered off while we were shopping a few weeks ago and came back claiming he needed some space, I knew there was another girl. He acted like I was some sort of clingy bitch who was calling him every day and night. Did I complain that he acted like a goody-two-shoes Christian boy? Milquetoast kisses and chivalry. Blech. He's just lucky I'm patient."

"Yep. He sounds like a real lucky guy," Bella said, noncommittally. The pieces were starting to fall into place. Vanilla - Edward - hadn't been cheating after all. Then why had he continued with the whole cupcake buying charade? It didn't make any sense.

"You need to stay away from him. You're not his kind of girl. Trust me."

"Trust you? I don't even know you."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're going to keep pursuing him?"

Bella laughed outright. "I promise, I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. In fact, I didn't even know his name until you told me."

Lauren and Jessica looked at each other, confused. Bella's phlegmatic reactions had completely taken the wind out of their sails. What had they expected, a screaming cat fight complete with shrieking insults and bitch slaps? Bella laughed again. She had better control of her emotions now. Besides, they'd already told her everything she needed to know.

Now, if only she knew how to find him.

Bella turned her back on the girls and resumed frosting a tray of pumpkin cupcakes. Their muttered curses were drowned out by the silvery chime of the bell as the door swung shut behind them.

 **3 BMaC 3**

She missed seeing his face every Friday morning. She caught herself listening for the doorbell as she worked alone in the kitchen every Monday. He didn't appear.

On Halloween morning, Bella got up at 4 AM to bake and frost the hundreds of tiny cupcakes she gave out to trick-or-treaters. She had candle-lit jack-o-lanterns lined up on the sidewalk outside, and she had partnered with the other businesses up and down the street to post fliers, inviting the little goblins and ghouls to stop in between 5 and 9 PM. There was a fun and flighty vibe in the air. Angela stopped in at lunch time to press candy ghosts and pumpkins into the tops of each treat. As evening drew closer, they brewed hot coffee and mixed apple cider to chase away the autumn chill.

Angela stayed a little longer than she had originally planned, manning the counter while Bella doled out treats and complimented the tiny Ironman, Ice Princess and Jedi wannabes. When traffic slowed to a trickle, Bella let her go with a check and a box of cupcakes to share with her friends. She poured herself a decaf coffee, added a splash of Kahlua, and waited for 9 o'clock to roll around.

During the last half hour, two groups of teens stopped by and Bella off-loaded as many of the treats as they would take. At closing time, she blew out the candles and dragged the pumpkins in, flipped the sign to 'Closed' and turned out the lights. She had her hand on the deadbolt when her eyes caught movement across the street.

The man's figure was familiar, but he was nothing like her Vanilla. During a break in traffic, he crossed the street. Her heart hung in her throat as he came closer. His hair stood up in every direction, gelled into artful disarray. His glasses were gone. Instead, his eyes were lined in black, amplifying the warm, amber color, exactly the same shade as her favorite bourbon. There was a black ring through his septum and another in his left earlobe. He wore a ratty white t-shirt, untucked over stovepipe jeans that hung low over his narrow hips. She already knew about the piercing and tattoo underneath.

Bella's hands hung limply at her sides as she watched him through the glass. When he stepped up on the sidewalk in front of her, he waited until the count of ten, then opened the door.

"It's not locked. Does that mean you don't hate me?"

"Lauren and her roommate came into the shop a while back."

"Fuck. . ."

"Actually, the conversation was enlightening. And a little bit entertaining. There is no way that girl has ever seen you naked."

"Not even close." He shook his head slowly. "I was wrong. I should have told you the truth from the beginning. I went on one date with Lauren. That one date told me everything I needed to know. She was everything I am supposed to want. Everything my parents told me to look for in a woman. But she bores the ever living fuck out of me. I kissed her once at the end of the night. On the cheek. That day at the market? It was supposed to be a group outing. A bunch of us from study group were going people watching for a class project and Jessica suggested the market as the perfect place. At the last second, everyone else backed out and it was just the three of us."

"You lied to me."

"Not exactly."

Bella scowled and bit her tongue. "You never corrected me. You let me believe. . . God! It still makes me sick! Why didn't you just tell me you weren't with her like that?" she cried, her arms crossed and her hands in fists.

"Because I'm a coward. I know I fucked this up. Please give me a chance to fix it. The truth is, the first time you smiled at me, I could tell it was because you thought I was a certain kind of guy. A milkshakes at the drive in, casseroles and apple pies at mom's house, white picket fence all-American kind of guy. I felt like, if that's what you liked, some sort of opposites attract kind of thing, I didn't want to show you the real me."

"The real you? Why don't we start there," Bella commanded.

"I don't even know where to start. The fact is I suck at dating. I've only ever hooked up with friends. And that was cool because I never wanted anything serious before now. I cuss like a sailor. My last car was a piece of shit Camaro I rebuilt during high school. That girl who sold me the Volvo? I begged her to teach me how to dress. I'm a complete fraud. This is my dad's world. I've been trying to fit in for years and failing miserably."

"And everything you told me about medical school?"

"That's the honest truth. I have to keep a professional image on campus. If I showed up to a lecture like this, my dad would kill me. Look, here's the real story. The only part that really matters. My name is Edward Anthony Masen, and I am hopelessly infatuated with you. I can't think of anyone or anything else. I lived for Fridays and Mondays because I got to speak to you, but it wasn't nearly enough. I would have come every other day but I couldn't think of a legitimate excuse."

"It's not that hard. Just tell me you want to be with me."

"I thought it was obvious."

"I'm a girl. I still need to hear it."

"Fine. Bella, I want to be with you. Only you. And I want you to bake cupcakes for me every day for the rest of my life."

"Every day?"

"Except for the days I bake them for you," he corrected, pulling out the sweet smile she adored.

"Huh. So. . . Edward." Bella was doing her best to hide her confusion.

"Um, yeah. It's a family name."

"Uh huh," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I like Vanilla better."

"Oh, Bella. You know I am not really vanilla. Not in the slightest."

"Then we'll use it ironically. Now come inside before you freeze your balls off. I know how important they are to you."

"Awww, Cupcake Girl. I thought you'd never ask."

 **3 THE END 3**


End file.
